Annie

Life's lessons come in a variety of ways

I've had a recurring dream lately.

Actually, it's more of a memory than a dream.

I'm standing in the Dallas/Ft. Worth Airport; on my way to Marine Combat Training. Young, proud and donning my Dress Blues I stand waiting for my connection to San Diego. People pass and they stare, some smile and a couple of college girls gaze at me sideways; whispering and giggling under their breath.

I see my reflection in the window as the rain drums against the pane outside. My own reflection still messed with me a little. I had dropped 60 pounds in boot camp and my hair hadn't been that short since I was a child. I'm not sure how long I stood staring at myself. It was probably only a few seconds though it felt like an eternity.

The slightest tug on the sleeve of my coat brought me back to reality. I glanced down to find a little girl, no more than 4, trying to get my attention. I knelt to meet her eyes and she turned away shyly. Then, without a word, she wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me tightly, refusing to let go.

I scooped her up in my arms and began to look for a parent. It didn't take long before her mother, tears streaming, found us and thanked me for my effort. She reached for the little girl, who's name was Annie, but the child wouldn't release my neck. It was only then that I realized that she had been crying too. Her tears had turned my dress coat an even darker shade of blue on the shoulder and my neck was damp.

Her mother explained to me that she had been married to a Marine. He had died in a freak training accident six months earlier. So I held Annie tightly as we waited for my plane to board and I spoke to her mother, whose name I never learned; about Annie's father, and their uncertain future, and Annie's love for the Dress Blue uniform.

When my time came to board I left them there. A young widow and a fatherless little girl who would do anything to be close to her daddy. Even hugging a complete stranger.

The Marine Corps left a lot of things ingrained in me. To this day I cannot sleep more than six or seven hours; if I do its a miracle. I'm never late unless there is a circumstance beyond my control. Never. I still walk with my head high and stride confidently. I feel there is nothing I can't accomplish and have a work ethic that gets me in trouble sometimes because my bosses know I will complete any task given to me.

Everything the military ingrained in me doesn't compare to that one moment, when I learned that the most important thing we can do is give compassion to a grieving child.

I don't know what happened to Annie and her mother, but the memory of her is with me and probably always will be. I don't know how many Marines held her as she cried over the father she would never see again, though I hope it was every one she went to.

Reviews

[Emily B]

I can't imagine any man in dress blues turning Annie away. This is a tremendous story. The kind of thing that doesn't garner much notice until you stop by it. The kind of story that you never forget once you've read it . . . I'm very glad you shared it.